Mirror of Fate
by Somewhere Nowhere
Summary: Summary: Harry's lost EVERYTHING. Given one chance to make things right again, he gives up his past and present in the hope of a better future. Time travel fic. Rating is for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Harry's lost EVERYTHING. Given one chance to make things right again, he gives up his past and present in the hope of a better future. Time travel fic.

Disclaimer: I'm disclaiming! Don't own it. Nope. Nada. Makes me sad but oh well.

**November, 1933**

The boy stared out the window listlessly. The grimy glass revealed nothing more spectacular than an overgrown yard with a few broken toys and a single stunted tree. The orphanage matron was calling everyone to supper downstairs, but the child just glanced at the door and turned back to the cheerless view. He sighed, his breath fogging the cold window pane. It's not like anyone really wanted him down there anyways. In fact, they'd probably rejoice if he starved himself to death. _Not that it would take long_, he thought looking down at his malnourished, gaunt body. His oversized clothes just made him look even smaller. He sighed and debated falling into his old, well-worn daydreams. Some long lost relative would come and take him away, care for him, and maybe even come to love him. The child snorted quietly. If anyone gave a damn about Tom Riddle sitting cold and bruised in a run down orphanage, surely they would have come by now. He curled up, his head resting lightly against the window and shut his eyes. Someday he'd get out of here, with or without anyone's help. With that thought in mind, the little boy passed gently into sleep.

**November, 1998**

It had been seven months since Harry had taken down Voldemort. The cost had been terrible. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Snape, Bill, and Neville. All gone. Harry shut his eyes and brought the bottle to his lips. The burn from the firewhisky felt right, almost like a penance of sorts, then the burn dulled into a warm feeling of comfort. In the months since The Battle, Harry had found sleeping next to impossible and being awake nearly unbearable. Drinking solved both those problems. It dulled the pain of being conscious and gave him dreamless oblivion when he finally passed out for the day. He had become a regular at the Hog's Head, having grown sick of the pitying looks and gentle scolding from Rosmerta about his drinking habits. Aberforth merely nodded to him and got him his regular fix without comment.

Harry stared down at the bottle in his hand, his green eyes reflecting in the surface, warped green smudges glaring back at him. For an instant his mother came to mind, the way she had smiled at him when the resurrection stone summoned her and the others. Green eyes so like his. "_Harry_..." Harry blinked. He could've sworn he had just heard her voice. For a second a heavy sense of guilt and shame flooded him, sitting there drinking his life away. He choked back the sudden burning in his throat. Suddenly he had the urge to leave, to be anywhere but the dim, smoky tavern. He hurriedly pushed back his chair and stood, dropping a few galleons on the table. Nodding a quick goodbye to Abe, he walked out into the chilly evening.

Hogwarts wasn't really a far walk, but it felt to Harry like it had only taken seconds. The surreal journey barely registered as he placed his palms on the newly repaired doors. As he touched them, the castle seemed to sigh, cloaking him in a sudden warmth. He felt welcomed, like he had finally come home again. He almost smiled until he looked down and remembered Neville's mangled body bleeding out in the exact same spot. He closed his eyes. Hogwarts seemed to feel his pain and the gentle magic that had welcomed him drew around him once more and the doors quietly swung open. _It's alright_, the castle seemed to whisper. Harry nodded in silent reply and stepped forward into the dim interior.

Harry didn't look as he passed the great hall, ignored the charms corridor, and suppressed a flinch as he passed the library. He shied away from the staircase that would take him to the entrance of Gryffindor tower and inevitably found himself in front of the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. Without him saying a word the gargoyle moved to the side and Harry hesitated a moment before starting up the twisting stairs. Briefly he wondered if McGonagall would come out and ask him to leave. Shaking off the thought he continued until he came to the office door. Resting his hand lightly on the handle, he gathered his courage and entered. The office had changed. No longer were there numerous trinkets lining the shelves, books and papers stacked haphazardly on the desk, and no brightly colored phoenix perched near the windows. He hadn't had much time to look around the last time he had been here during the battle. Snape's stint as headmaster had obviously cleared the room, and McGonagall had kept the sparse look. Suddenly feeling watched, Harry turned to the portraits to find two sets of eyes on him. A pair of glittering ebony eyes looked down from a sneering face and a pair of twinkling blue eyes took in his blank expression. Harry nodded at the two. "Professor, Headmaster, it's nice to see you again."

The portrait of Severus Snape snorted, the sneer becoming more pronounced. Dumbledore simply smiled. "Hello Harry. You've changed quite a bit since last I saw you." Harry moved closer. "I guess I have." He ignored the look on the former Potions Master's face and ran a hand through his hair. "So what brings you to Hogwarts my boy?" The blue eyes looked a little too knowing as they peered down at him. Harry shrugged. "I don't know sir, I just kinda found myself here." Dumbledore nodded as Snape let out another derisive snort "Potter, eloquent as ever I see." The portrait raised an eyebrow as if waiting for Harry to argue. Dumbledore chuckled, "now now Severus. It seems to me like Harry could use a bit of help." Snape frowned, looking for an instant like a child whose favorite toy had been snatched away. Harry bit his lip and choked back the hysterical giggle that had threatened at the thought. "What kind of help do I need, sir?" He found himself asking. If possible Dumbledore's gaze twinkled even brighter, "Why what you need is time my dear boy." Harry frowned in confusion. "I'm sorry sir, I don't quite understand." He thought for an instant perhaps the Headmaster meant something along the lines of "time heals everything," but looking at the smiling portrait he got the feeling there was more to it than that. After all when had anything been simple with Albus Dumbledore? "Second shelf down on the far wall," the portrait directed. Puzzled Harry went to the empty shelf. "Sir? There's nothing here." He ran a hand lightly over the aged wood. A small clicking sound and a moment later, the wall moved forward almost knocking the brunette over. Curious, Harry peered into the dark opening. It was narrow, but more than enough for him to fit through. "What's in here sir?" He asked a shiver running over his skin. "That my boy, is where you'll find all your answers. Tell me Harry, what would you do to be able to save your friends and loved ones?" Harry didn't hesitate. "Anything," he said, his voice slightly rough. "I'd do anything sir." Dumbledore smiled. "Good luck Harry."

It was dark and cold in the tunnel behind the bookshelf. Harry found himself wishing he had brought a thicker cloak. The damp, musty smell gave him the feeling that no one had been back here in a while. The white light from his wand played along the passage making the walls distort and seem to shift. Finally he came to a small room about as big as his room on Privet Drive. It was bare save for a single mirror leaning against one wall. Harry slowly walked up to it, taking in his ragged appearance. The baggy clothes, the shaggy hair, the deep black circles under his eyes. For a second his lips twisted in amusement. _Wow, no wonder Dumbledore thought I needed help. _He shook his head and let his eyes travel over the mirror. _How is this supposed to help me? _Elegant, curling script at the top of the mirror's frame caught his attention. It was in parseltongue, but to Harry it was as clear as English. "The Mirror of Fate, huh?" Harry murmured, touching the cool glass. Instead of a solid surface however, his fingers seemed to sink right through the mirror. Startled, Harry tried to pull his hand back, but an insistent tugging pulled him closer and closer. "What the hell!" He struggled harder, but whatever was pulling him wasn't letting go. A wave of fear crashed through him, but was instantly cooled by a deep kind of calm. Harry took a deep breath and stopped fighting. Maybe he'd get to see Hermione and Ron...

A/N: I haven't written anything in a while, so this is me getting back in the swing of things. Let me know what you think J


	2. Chapter 2

**November, 1933**

It hurt. His whole body hurt. Harry groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He must have drunk more than he thought last night. Abe was gonna kill him if he had passed out under the tables again. Biting his lip against the massive headache attacking his brain, Harry slowly forced his eyes open.

He was laying in a small stone room in front of a tall mirror. Memories of the night before began to creep back and Harry found himself cautiously raising a hand to touch the mirror. Solid. Harry frowned. Had last night just been a dream after all? He shrugged and unsteadily got to his feet. Cursing himself six ways to Sunday for going to Hogwarts wasted, he staggered back down the narrow tunnel. Snape would have a field day when he got back all hung over. Damn. Something crinkled in his pocket. Muttering a quiet _lumos _he reached in and pulled out a packet of papers. _Who is Harrison Evan Peverell?_ The entrance was just ahead of him now. It had closed, but small cracks of light told Harry where it was. Putting the papers back in his pocket, he placed his hands on the stone and felt around for several minutes before the entrance opened again with a soft grinding sound.

Armando Dippet was sitting peacefully at his desk filling out the endless paperwork that came with being headmaster when one of the walls in his office started moving. Dippet watched, startled, as a slim young man (looking rather worse for wear) staggered out from behind the wall and into the room. The boy couldn't have been much older than seventeen with messy black hair and big, tired green eyes. He looked as shocked as the headmaster felt when he caught sight of him. Dippet drew his wand and cautiously stood up.

Harry froze as he caught sight of the stranger sitting at the headmaster's desk. The older man stood, pointing his wand at him. Harry's own wand was stupidly enough, in his back pocket. _Great. _The man stared at Harry for a moment before asking who he was in a deep, soft voice. "I'm um…" Harry hesitated not really wanting to use his own name. He remembered the packet of papers in his pocket. "Harrison Peverell," he finally said. Since he was technically a descendent, he figured he wasn't really lying. The strangely familiar older man tipped his head as if pondering the name, then nodded. "I am Headmaster of Hogwarts Armando Dippet. May I ask how you came to be in my office?" Harry felt his jaw drop. "What year is this sir?"

Dippet was startled by the boy's question. _What year is it? _Keeping his wand trained on the intruder he answered, "November 13, 1933." He watched as the young man looked confused, then disbelieving. He very much felt like he was missing the punch line here. "Once again, why exactly are you here Mr. Peverell?"

Harry was feeling a bit lost. 1933. He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. _Why is it always me? _He needed to get out of here, but what to tell Dippet? _Wait. Dippet was headmaster when Tom Riddle went to Hogwarts. Did that mean… _Harry felt hope start to bubble up for the first time since the end of the war. If he was back this far, maybe he could stop the war from ever happening. Looking back at Dippet he could see the man starting to get impatient. Deciding the truth would expedite things a bit he met Dippet's narrowed brown eyes and took a deep breath.

"Will you make me a vow?" The green-eyed boy asked softly. Dippet raised a suspicious brow. The boy held up his hands. "I'll tell you why I'm here, you just can't tell anyone else." Dippet hesitated. If the boy were here for some nefarious reason…but then Hogwarts would have alerted him if a malicious presence were inside the wards. Besides, Peverell didn't look like a threat, as thin and worn as he was. Dippet nodded. "I'll take a vow not to reveal your presence or reasons for being here, if you can swear to me you mean no harm in coming here."

It was reasonable, Harry supposed. He agreed and felt the vow settle over his magic. Inwardly calming himself he took a deep breath and began…

Two hours later, his throat feeling raw and scratchy, Harry finished his story. Armando Dippet was leaning back in his chair, staring at Harry as though he were a rare potions ingredient. "That's quite a story," he finally said. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and sank back in his own chair across the desk. "You know interfering with time is a very dangerous thing yes?" Harry contemplated for a moment, picturing his lost friends. If he could keep that from happening…anything would be worth it. Any risk. He looked at Dippet. "If I can change things for the better, it's worth whatever happens." He looked down at his hands, remembering the solid surface of the mirror when he touched it the second time. "The mirror wouldn't let me back anyway."

Harry left the headmaster's office feeling determined. Now he needed to find Tom Riddle. Luckily it was lunch time and most students and teachers were in the great hall. He made it all the way to the doors without seeing anyone except a small group of Hufflepuffs who barely spared him a glance. Little did he know that a brightly colored bird tracked his every movement until the doors closed behind him.

Diagon Alley was crowded as usual. Harry looked around curiously as he took in the different shops, many of which didn't exist in his time. He currently had three issues. One, he had no money, two, no place to stay, and finally he had no clue where to find Tom Riddle. The thought of the boy who would become Voldemort ruined his mood and he found himself gritting his teeth. The easiest way to stop the war from happening would be to just kill the bastard before he grew up into an all-powerful psychopath. Harry sighed. Even after everything in the war, he still wasn't comfortable with killing. _I'll think of something._ He looked up as he reached Gringotts. Feeling slightly apprehensive that his fiasco robbing a vault might somehow be known to the goblins, even though he was in the past, he hesitated at the door. "Excuse me," An aristocratic voice from behind him quickly made up his mind. Harry pushed the door open and walked into the bank. As soon as he was inside a tall platinum blonde brushed past him and up to the nearest teller. Harry stared. _Definitely a Malfoy. _Shaking his head at his luck he walked over to one of the goblins. "I'd like to see if I'm eligible to inherit any of the vaults," he began nervously. The goblin (Grishshank according to his nametag), sneered at him, "There will be a three galleon fee for the blood test to determine your eligibility." Harry dug in his pockets and thankfully had just enough. He handed the money over. "I need to take a blood sample. Extend your hand and be still." Harry winced as a pin dug into his fingertip. The goblin squeezed the injured digit until a large drop of blood hung precariously over a blank piece of parchment. The drop fell. "This will take a few minutes."

Harry watched fascinated as names and lines slowly began appearing. The goblin raised an eyebrow. "How interesting Mr. Potter. It would seem you're a long way from home." One long green finger softly traced the lines on the page. "At the present you are only eligible for the Peverell vault though. Will you be requiring a key?" Harry nodded, "I'd also like to be taken down to the vault today." The goblin quickly agreed and soon Harry found himself racing down the tracks deeper and deeper into the bank. He hated Gringotts carts.

The Peverell vault was deeper than the Potter vault and Harry felt excitement bubble up as he watched the goblin open the door. "I will be here should you require assistance Mr. Potter." The goblin's grin was far from comforting. "Mr. Peverell." Harry replied simply and walked into the vault. There was quite a bit of money (enough to buy at least three houses and live comfortably for years) but Harry's attention was caught by the rows and rows of books that lined one entire wall. Making himself a promise he'd be back to look at them, he quickly filled a bag with galleons and walked back to the cart. Tonight he would stay at the Leaky Cauldron and tomorrow he'd look for a house.

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Let me know. Thanks for reading J Next chapter Harry finally meets Tom


	3. Chapter 3

**November, 1933**

Harry groaned as the chatty witch in front of him extolled the virtues of yet another house. He knew he was being picky, but since he could very well be stuck in this time period for Merlin knows how long, he figured the house he chose should be comfy. The property he was currently touring was a small cottage. It was rather plain with whitewashed walls and worn wooden flooring. Windows in every room gave it a bright, open look. There were three bedrooms and two baths. All in all a rather cozy little home. Harry's favorite thing about it though was the garden.

One would think being forced to garden for the Dursleys would make Harry dislike them (gardens that is; he definitely disliked the Dursleys), but truth be told gardening was one of the few things (besides flying) that he found relaxing and peaceful. The cottage garden was colorful and bright, growing almost wildly and lending the cottage a kind of enchanted feel. Harry snorted. _I've gone through way too many houses today. _Tapping the witch on the shoulder he stopped her mid-sentence. "I'll take it."

The real estate witch was delighted to say the least. After a whirlwind of papers and simpering remarks from the woman, he finally walked out into Diagon Alley with his new house keys jingling in his pocket. He frowned as he went over his mental "To do" list. _Hmm. Furniture, groceries, clothes… _Harry sighed. Gritting his teeth he resigned himself to a full day of shopping.

First was Rhodes All Occasion Robes. He was fussed over, measured, shoved in various garments, and had endless fabric samples tossed at him. Apparently business had been rather slow of late. Wishing he had brought some firewhisky with him, Harry shut his eyes patiently and ignored the sales ladies' antics. Finally they finished with him and he doled out a handful of galleons. He all but ran out of the store.

Next was furniture. Not nearly as traumatizing as the clothing store. A rather bland looking man pointed him to various pieces and made a few quiet suggestions. After picking out the sets he wanted, the balding wizard accepted payment and promised to have a house elf deliver the furniture to the cottage. That brought Harry up short a moment. A house elf would certainly make life easier…he could almost hear Hermione scolding him. He smiled. Yes, he could use a house elf.

Harry followed the directions the clerk at the furniture store had given him. A private supplier for house elves apparently had a shop fairly close by. Now where…there. Harry tossed his hair out of his eyes and walked in. The interior was dim and had a rather clinical feel to it. A sharp looking witch with graying hair eyed him as he walked in. "Hello," Harry pasted on a smile, "I'm looking to buy a house elf." The woman pursed her lips and nodded. "Follow me."

The elves were in small cages lining the walls. Harry bit his lip. "We have some overstock at the moment. Plenty of selection." The woman glanced back at Harry. "Any preferences Mr?"

"Peverell." Harry answered looking uncomfortably around at the cages. He thought of Dobby and flinched. No wonder the little elf had always been so eager for freedom. Harry started as he caught sight of a young male elf near the back. The elf looked (almost glared) back at him fearlessly. Harry smiled. "I think I'll take that one," he pointed. The woman's eyes widened. " surely one of the others would be better suited to your needs," she frowned at the elf. "This one is…defective." Harry shook his head. "I'd like that one please."

"Dilly is happy to be serving Master Harry." The little elf had warmed considerably to Harry after he had smiled at it and talked to it some. Harry nodded and compared his new elf to his old friend. _Dobby would've liked him, _Harry decided. The cottage was cleaned, the furniture delivered, and Dilly had whisked off to begin supper. Harry wandered out back to the garden. The evening air was cool and refreshing. Harry sank down onto a small stone bench and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he could start visiting orphanages to find Tom Riddle. He still had no clue what he'd do when he did.

"_Harry." Harry looked up into wise blue eyes. "Professor?" Dumbledore smiled in reply. "Seems the mirror accepted you my boy," the old wizard sat on the stone bench next to Harry. "Such a lovely garden Harry." Harry nodded not really sure what to say. For a moment they sat in companionable silence. "Professor what do I do about Tom?" Dumbledore sat back and sighed, lacing his fingers. "Harry you are the only one who can answer that. The decision and it's consequences will be yours to live with." The blue eyes softened. "Whatever you choose, I believe in you Harry. I've never met another young man capable of as much love or as much compassion…" Harry turned searching for a reply. An empty space and a lingering smell of lemons greeted him._

"Master Harry! Master Harry sir! It is being time for dinner Master Harry!" Harry slowly opened his eyes to see Dilly bouncing up and down impatiently. "Thanks Dilly. I'll be in in a minute." The elf nodded and disappeared with a loud crack. Rubbing a hand over his face, Harry stood. Dumbledore had given him the answer he needed. He was not a killer. He very much doubted he could stand and look at a little kid, future dark lord or no, and say the words that would erase him. Harry sighed. He'd just have to do things the hard way. Pushing away the creeping fears and doubts that began to crop up, he walked into the cottage. His mind was made up. He'd adopt Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle stared at the scratched wooden desk in front of him. He winced as the paddle descended again and tried to ignore the stinging pain and the matron's cruel words. "I can't believe we ever took you in. Should've left you to die in the streets with your mother. Never have I seen such a horrid little child. A monster!" The woman's screeching voice rang in his ears as she struck him again. His knuckles were white and he felt his teeth cut into his lip. "Are you listening to me you ungrateful little beast!" The matron grabbed his shoulders and yanked him back only to shake him viciously. "I've had enough of your misbehaving!" She released him and Tom staggered back hitting the wall behind him. "Get out of my sight!"

The small seven year old wrapped his arms around himself and scampered out the door. Tears were burning in his eyes, but he didn't care as he ran towards the small broom cupboard on the second floor.

Tucking himself in behind the brooms and mops, Tom huddled against the grimy wall. Shaking and crying silently, he closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was somewhere, anywhere else. The paddling had added to his already painful collection of bruises and welts and he shifted carefully. _I'll get out of here someday, _he thought fiercely, _I'll get out and no one will hurt me again. _His stomach growled and he hugged himself tighter. Someday he'd show them all.

Harry walked up to the old rusting gates. Wool's Orphanage was the last one he'd check for today. Idly wondering what Dilly was making for dinner, he let himself in and wandered up to the decrepit old building. It certainly wasn't a very welcoming place. He reached the door and knocked, ignoring the paint chips that stuck to his hand. A middle aged woman with a sour face and hard eyes opened the door. "May I help you?" Her tone suggested she'd like to be anything but helpful. Harry cleared his throat. "I'm looking for a boy named Tom Riddle." The woman's eyes narrowed and a sneer worthy of Snape crossed her face. "Come inside."

The interior of the orphanage was as dismal as the exterior. The woman led him down a narrow hallway to a small office. She gestured for him to sit, then settled herself in a chair behind a worn looking desk. "So you're here for Tom Riddle?" Her tone was suspicious. At Harry's nod her frown deepened. "You look a little young to be adopting. Are you related to the boy?" Harry took a breath and pasted his most charming smile on. "Yes ma'am. Tommy is a cousin of mine. I don't have much in the way of family so I came to get him when I heard he was here." The woman just stared at him obviously looking for some sign he was lying. Finally she leaned back in her chair. "I am Mrs. Cole. I run this orphanage. Tom Riddle was, unfortunately, left with us after his mother's death. He is a troublesome child. Not worth the money to feed him." Harry's eyes widened at the woman's vitriol. Flashbacks of Aunt Petunia denying him food and the verbal abuses that were heaped on him through out his childhood ran through his mind. His chest tightened and for the first time he found himself pitying Voldemort. _It wouldn't be hard to end up like he did in a place like this, _he thought to himself. "I'd like to see him."

Tom stared down at his dinner. The thin, watery soup and slightly stale bread was the first meal he'd had since his punishment yesterday. His stomach growled and he frowned, picking up his spoon with shaky fingers. The soup was cold, but Tom was hungry enough not to care. The soggy vegetables were easy to swallow anyway. He reached for his piece of bread as someone knocked into his tray. "Oops," the older boy snickered. He had pushed the tray over the side of the table spilling soup all over Tom and making the bread fall on the floor. Tom stood up, his hands fisting in anger.

Harry and Mrs. Cole walked into the dining room and right into the middle of a fight. Mrs. Cole immediately started screeching, spewing out threats that made Harry wince. Cautiously stepping closer, he could see Tom Riddle pinned to the floor by a much larger boy. Tom's nose was bloodied and one eye was already swelling shut. A bolt of icy anger clenched in Harry's stomach and without another thought he pulled the larger boy away from Tom.

Tom's face and body hurt. He fought, trying to push the other boy off him when suddenly strong hands pulled Eric away. Tom gasped, able to breathe normally without the boy's bulk. He could hear Mrs. Cole screeching nearby and the other kids jeering. He blinked. A man with dark hair and deep green eyes leaned over him. "Are you alright?" The man asked quietly. Tom nodded, puzzled and wary as the stranger held out a hand to help him up. He gingerly accepted the hand. It was warm and rough he noticed absently. Agony shot through him as he tried to struggle to his feet and he felt his legs give out. Instantly, there were arms around him, gently supporting his weight. Tom opened his mouth to protest but the words never came out. He swayed into the stranger as darkness took over his vision.

A/N: Thanks so much for the great reviews and all the support. I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story so far. Hopefully I'm not just repeating every other Harry/Tom time travel story out there. Please let me know if you have any suggestions and thank you guys for being awesome!


	4. Chapter 4

**November, 1933**

Harry picked Tom up as the boy lost consciousness. He frowned. The body in his arms weighed next to nothing. Cradling the child protectively, he walked out of the dining room. Mrs. Cole yelled for a stringy, pale looking woman to take care of things. With a condescending sniff, she followed Harry back to her office.

Mrs. Cole sneered as she watched the green-eyed young man holding the orphanage's least popular child gently in his lap. Unnatural, monstrous thing that he was. Mrs. Cole had tried, long and hard to force some normality into the boy. Yes sir, nobody could say she hadn't attempted to do her Christian duty to the lad. The stubborn child simply wouldn't conform. He never cried as she beat him, never complained when she denied him food, he disdained and frightened the other children, and the boy was an incurable liar. Had she been less charitable, she would have left him in the streets long ago. She sighed. At least it looked like she now had a way to be rid of him.

Harry awkwardly filled out the adoption papers while trying to balance Tom in his lap. He guiltlessly lied about his age, writing his date of birth to appear 19. He rushed through the forms, wanting to get Tom back home so he could heal him. As he wrote he tried to recall the few spells Madam Pomfrey had taught him. He hoped it would be enough. He glanced briefly at Mrs. Cole, shuddering at the cold satisfaction on her face. He didn't doubt that anyone could've simply walked out with Tom and she wouldn't have lifted a finger. Finally he signed the last line and slid the papers and pen back across the desk to her. She barely looked at them and nodded, waving a hand for him to go. He did, standing carefully so he wouldn't disturb Tom and walked out of the office.

The air outside was a welcome relief. Harry paused to savor it for a moment before looking around him. Seeing no one, he turned and apparated with a loud crack.

Tom thankfully remained unconscious as Harry carried him into his cottage. Laying the boy gently on his couch, Harry pulled out his wand and started casting. Five healing spells later, Tom was all patched up. Harry on the other hand was beyond angry. The damage on Tom's body made him want to march back into the orphanage and curse Mrs. Cole with the nastiest spells he knew. Cuts, bruises, welts, a fractured rib, the facial injuries from his fight, and the glaringly obvious malnourishment. If anyone had told him even a week ago that he'd be spitting furious on Riddle's behalf he probably would have laughed and ordered another drink. Now though, he could feel the rage humming through his body and he fought the need to hit something. A low moan from the couch drove all those thoughts out of his head though and he turned to look at Tom.

Tom woke slowly, then laid with his eyes shut putting off the inevitable beating he was going to get for fighting again. He relaxed and tried to take stock of his injuries only to open his eyes in disbelief when he didn't feel any pain. The room was unfamiliar and a jolt of fear ran through him as he wildly looked around. A movement to his left caught his attention and he quickly turned, finding a dark haired man staring at him. It took a few seconds but Tom recognized him. It was the man who had helped him at dinner. He cautiously met the green eyes, hoping for some indication of why he was here and what this man wanted.

_Tom looks frightened, _Harry thought, inwardly grimacing. The future dark lord had shrunk back against the couch cushions and was staring up at him with wary, confused eyes. Searching for something reassuring to say, Harry took the opportunity to study his new charge. Dark blue eyes, pale skin, dark hair, a stubborn set to his chin and mouth. _He's even smaller than I was, _Harry thought. He resolved to get some nutrient potions and buy the boy some new clothes in the morning. Trying to appear non-threatening he knelt next to the couch and forced a small smile. "Hello Tom. I'm your cousin Harrison Peverell and I've adopted you." Harry paused awkwardly. "You can call me Harry if you want."

Tom eyed "cousin Harry" warily. Here was finally a relative who came and took him away from the orphanage. Tom mentally shook his head. One thing he had learned in his painful and short life was that if something seemed too good to be true it probably was. He looked over the man thoughtfully. "Why did you want to adopt me?"

Harry had expected that so as convincingly as he could, he repeated the same story had had told Mrs. Cole. Tom looked a bit skeptical, but before either of them had the chance to say anything else Dilly popped into the room. Tom visibly jumped and curled up defensively, staring at the elf. "What is it?" The boy whispered. Harry quickly explained what a house elf was. Dilly watched them seeming slightly amused. "I's is here to tell Masters that dinner is ready." The elf beamed at Harry and disappeared, presumably back to the kitchen. Tom's jaw dropped and he stared wide eyed at where the elf had been. "I guess it might help if I told you we are wizards."

Tom turned from gaping at the empty air where the creature had disappeared to stare at Harry. _Wizards? _Fortunately he managed to close his mouth. At his look Harry laughed and continued to explain, "magic is real. We are wizards and when you're eleven you'll go off to Hogwarts to learn about it." Tom couldn't hide his disbelief. Harry apparently noticed. "Have you ever done anything strange? Something you can't explain? That's accidental magic. Usually it happens when you're experiencing strong emotion of some kind." Tom knew exactly what he meant. Those times at the orphanage..talking to snakes. Mrs. Cole had just told him he was unnatural with some kind of unholy powers and Tom would get a beating whenever it happened. _If Harry's telling the truth though then he can do that stuff too. _For a moment a hopeful feeling bubbled up in his chest before he pushed it away. Trusting an adult had never led to anything good.

Harry watched Tom's expression carefully. The distrust and disbelief were the most obvious things, but for a second Tom almost looked…excited? Hopeful? Harry decided the quickest way to make Tom believe him would just be to show him. After all if any of this was going to work, Tom would have to learn to trust him. Nodding to himself, Harry pulled out his Holly wand and decided he might as well go all out with this. "Expecto Patronum!" He watched in satisfaction as the silvery stag burst out of his wand. As the patronus galloped once around the room a kind of bittersweet nostalgia overtook him and for a moment he was standing with his friends casting the same spell, fighting side by side with the people who… Harry snapped out of his memories and shook his head. Wanting to look anywhere but the fading patronus, he glanced back over at Tom then smiled at the boy's awestruck face.

A/N: Because of the positive feedback so far, I decided to post this chapter early.


	5. Chapter 5

**November, 1933**

After dinner (which had apparently been more food than Tom had ever seen before) Harry gave the seven year old a quick tour around the house. When they had gotten to Tom's room the little boy had looked around in wide eyed disbelief. "This is my room?" At Harry's nod, Tom had bit his lip and stared around the room as if he were memorizing it. He had jumped as Harry ruffled his hair softly. "It's all yours."

At the moment, they were sitting in the living room. Dilly had made Tom a small cup of hot chocolate and the tiny brunette was sipping it happily. Harry watched him, pretending to read a book and couldn't help but smile. Tom was peering curiously around his cup whenever he thought Harry wasn't looking, trying to see the title. After a few minutes of this, Harry stood and slowly walked over to the couch, noticing how Tom's gaze immediately dropped to the floor. "Hey kiddo," he said, unconsciously using Sirius' old endearment for him, "want me to read to you?" Tom looked up in obvious surprise. "I know how to read," he automatically said. Harry chuckled. "Yeah I'm sure you do, it's just nice to have someone else do it for you once in a while." Tom tilted his head and thought for a moment before cautiously nodding. Harry grinned and shifted closer, holding the book so Tom could see and flipping back to the first page. As he read, he thought of Hermione. Though this wasn't the same copy, the book he was reading was _The Tales of Beedle the Bard, _the same book Dumbledore had given her after his death. Making a mental note to avoid the _Tale of the Three Brothers, _he took a deep breath and began reading.

Tom sat entranced as the green eyed man read aloud to him. No one had ever done such a thing for him before, and though the story wasn't as advanced as what he'd normally read he found himself enjoying it. Harry's voice was soft and soothing. He didn't stumble or stutter over words. Setting his drink down, he scooted just a fraction of an inch closer and looked over at the page Harry was reading. The book seemed somewhat old, a brown stain marring one corner. It smelled a bit musty too, like dust, old parchment, leather, and…pine? No that was Harry. A warm smell like the woods on a sunny day, comforting and pleasant. Before Tom realized it he was nodding off, his head coming to rest on his guardian's arm and a small smile on his lips.

Harry almost jumped in surprise when he felt Tom lean against him. Glancing down, he realized the boy was asleep. Placing the book quietly on the arm of the couch, he gently pulled Tom closer and picked him up. Tom wasn't at all heavy and the walk to his room was short. He struggled for a moment to turn down the covers while holding Tom and let out a sigh of relief when he managed it without waking him up. Laying him down he quickly but tenderly tucked the boy in and whispered a soft goodnight before leaving the room.

Diagon Alley was crowded and noisy as usual. Tom looked around in amazement as they passed the different shops. First stop was the apothecary. Harry was pleased that Tom (rather mature for his age) didn't wander off or play with any of the jars. No, Tom just peered around solemnly, looking for all the world like a miniature adult. Harry might have laughed at his expression except that he was suddenly reminded why this child was so calm and serious. Paying for the nutrient potions, Harry led Tom to Fortesque's with a determined look. Tom would learn to have fun.

Tom nearly trembled with excitement. Everything was so strange and wonderful. Men and women swept by in their strange dresses..er robes, smiling and talking. Cauldrons, books, brooms, potions, and owls were displayed in shop windows. It seemed like anything he could imagine a wizard would want or need (and some things he wouldn't ever have imagined) were all for sale in the alley. He desperately wished he had some money. His thoughts were interrupted as Harry led him inside an ice cream parlor. Biting his lip he looked around at all the different flavors and couldn't help but shoot Harry a hopeful glance. He had never had ice cream before. Apparently his guardian had been planning to buy him some though because he grinned at Tom and asked which flavor he'd like.

After deciding ice cream was one of the most delicious things ever, Tom had been dragged from store to store watching in surprise as Harry bought things for him. No one had ever done that. Everything he owned was second hand. Oblivious, Harry just spoiled him, picking things in every store like he was an excited child himself. Tom was somewhat suspicious as to the generosity, but slowly found himself smiling slightly at his guardian in spite of himself. He didn't know what Harry wanted from him and why he was doing all of this, but just for a little bit maybe he would pretend he was like any other kid being loved and cared for.

Harry peered down at Tom, noting the boy's confusion. _We're actually pretty alike. _Harry hadn't really known what to think either the first time someone had gotten him something. When Hagrid had given him Hedwig, he had almost feared it was just a cruel joke despite the half-giant's ever present kindness. Even after years of having friends buy him Christmas and Birthday gifts, he had never entirely gotten used to receiving things. He figured Tom felt much the same way. Smiling at the boy, he shifted their purchases and held out a hand. Tom stared at it for a long moment before tentatively taking it. Harry squeezed the smaller hand in his gently. Somehow he would give Tom a happy, peaceful childhood.


	6. Chapter 6

**November, 1933**

Harry stared out the window and shifted the tumbler of fire whisky in his hand. Of course he wasn't going to get drunk with Tom in the house, but he needed a little something to take the edge off. The day had gone better than he could have imagined. Tom had enjoyed Diagon and had even loosened up enough to smile at him. He glanced down at his hand, remembering the much smaller one that had held it earlier. It had been easier than he'd thought, forgetting Tom was Voldemort. Seeing the small boy so like himself had pushed any reluctance he'd had to the back of his mind. Harry sighed and took another sip. How easy would it be to just let his guard down and forget he'd ever been anyone but Harrison Peverell? The thought was tempting. He shook his head and continued looking out over the shadowy tree line. No, if he was going to protect everyone he could never forget why he was here or just what Tom was capable of.

Harry didn't know how long he stood there lost in his thoughts before a scream tore his eyes from the window. Nearly dropping his glass in surprise, he pulled his wand and crept towards the hall. "Homenum Revelio!" He whispered, praying the wards hadn't been destroyed or circumvented. He sighed in relief as only one other presence turned up in the house. Sliding his wand back into his wrist holster, he headed for Tom's room. The door had been left open a crack, and he noiselessly walked over to the bed. Tom was thrashing wildly, tangling himself in the sheets. He was pale and Harry could see a fine sheen of sweat on the child's face. Tears were running silently onto the pillows. Harry hesitated a moment, awkwardly wondering how to do this. Steeling himself, he reached down and gently brushed a hand over the damp forehead. "Tom," he whispered, "Tom it's Harry. You're safe. Tom wake up!" The child moaned and cringed before opening up pained blue eyes. Jerking violently away from the hand on his forehead, Tom was up and over the other side of the bed before Harry could react. The child cowered, crouched in the narrow space between the nightstand and his bed. "Tom?" Harry was startled by the sheer terror radiating from the little boy. Making sure to keep his voice soft and his movements slow, he walked around the bed and knelt on the floor. He gave Tom plenty of space, but wanted to make sure the child could see who he was. "Tom, it's Harry. You're safe. You've just had a nightmare is all." Harry repeated the words over and over in a soothing litany, not moving an inch. He watched Tom slowly relax, the small body uncurling and slumping against the wall. The tears that had been running silently from the wide, frightened eyes slowly stopped. Tom took a deep, shuddering breath and finally focused on Harry. "H-harry?" Harry's heart ached at the sound of that voice. "I'm right here Tom. It was just a bad dream." Tom sniffled and shakily pulled himself to his feet. Harry slowly moved forward until he was about a foot from the upset child. He gently placed a comforting hand on a thin shoulder, ignoring the slight flinch. "Want to talk about it?" Tom shook his head and Harry nodded.

Tom was bewildered and scared. The dream had been so real he actually ached where the dream Mrs. Cole had struck him. Biting his lip, he tried to focus on Harry. The man had put a warm, steadying hand on his shoulder and was speaking quietly to him. He blushed. He didn't want Harry thinking he was a baby and if he caused too much trouble, the dark haired man might take him back to the orphanage. He shivered. Suddenly a deep warmth surrounded him. He looked at Harry in surprise as the man wrapped his robe around him, leaving Harry in just his pajamas. "Better?" Tom nodded dumbly as Harry smiled at him. The smile wasn't mocking and it reassured Tom that Harry wasn't angry with him. It seemed almost..understanding? When Harry held out a hand and offered a cup of tea, Tom hesitated just a second before accepting the hand and walking out to the kitchen.

Harry looked over the table at the little boy wrapped in his robe. The velvety green material swamped him, making him look even smaller. Harry grinned as Tom frowned and pushed a sleeve out of the way again but didn't remove the robe. "Want another cup?" He offered. Tom shook his head and bit his lip. "Want to talk about it?" He offered in a softer tone. Tom shook his head again and Harry thought he caught a hint of a blush on the pale face. Nodding he rose and carried the cups to the sink. Tom stared at the table, running a finger over a small bump in the finish. Harry came back and stood by his chair. "Think you could go back to sleep?" At Tom's horrified look he nodded and started for the living room.

Tom hesitantly followed, trying not to step on the oversized robe. He gave a tiny smile as Harry settled on the couch with the book from earlier. When his guardian patted the cushion next to him, Tom abandoned the arm chair he had been considering should Harry not want to sit with him. He tried not to appear too eager as he curled up and peered over Harry's arm at the book.

Harry bit back a grin as Tom snuggled on the couch next to him. The seven year old was obviously trying to act casual while peering at the storybook. His eyes were still a little red, but the calming draught in the tea had worked wonders. Picking up where they'd left off, Harry began to read.

Harry woke up stiff and sore. Sunlight was pouring through the living room windows to where he and Tom were sprawled awkwardly on the couch. He stared at the child sleeping peacefully on his chest for a moment before shifting carefully. His joints popped as he finally stood and stretched, checking to make sure he hadn't woken Tom. _Note to self, couches are not the best place to fall asleep. _"Then again, I've passed out in worse places," he murmured to himself before heading to the kitchen.

He could've hugged Dilly when the elf handed him a cup of coffee and ushered him to a seat. With a firm command to "let Dilly make Master Harry some breakfast," he sunk into his chair and took a deep drink of caffeinated bliss. Dilly had already placed the morning paper on the table and he scanned it. Grindelwald's uprising wouldn't start until 1938, but Harry wasn't about to take any chances. Hermione's voice drifted into his consciousness, "_Oh Harry ANYTHING can happen when you interfere with time. That's why time turners are so strictly regulated." _He smiled at the memory. That had been third year when they had crouched in the Forbidden Forest and waited for their past selves, Sirius, Remus, and Snape to emerge from the Shrieking Shack. _If only we could've gotten our hands on Pettigrew again. _Harry nearly jumped as Dilly plopped a plate of sausage and eggs in front of him. "Looks good Dilly thank you." The little elf beamed as he scurried back to the stove to fix Tom's breakfast. The boy in question had just stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and uncharacteristically rumpled. "Morning," Harry chirped at him, enjoying the small glare he got in return. _Tom's obviously not a morning person. _Digging into his food, Harry wondered what they should do today. _I guess it might be a good time to start teaching him a few basic spells. _With a mental nod of agreement, he turned to Tom and explained his idea. A warm feeling started in his chest as he watched the thin child light up.

Tom was excited. Today Harry was going to teach him magic! Hiding a smile, he thanked Dilly and started on his breakfast. He had a good feeling about today.

A/N: I want to thank everybody again. You guys are amazing! I'll update again soon. ^^


	7. Chapter 7

**November, 1933**

Tom was clever and precise, a quick learner. He mastered most spells with and ease that was almost unsettling for Harry. At times, he wondered if he was doing the right thing teaching Tom magic before Hogwarts. At the moment, Tom was transfiguring a teacup. The dark blue eyes were narrowed in concentration and a small frown was visible on the boy's face. Harry felt a moment of envy for the child's intense focus. There were always too many thoughts running through his head for him to achieve singular concentration like that. As the tea cup twisted into a lovely vase, Tom looked up at Harry. A familiar ache for approval was in those big eyes even though Tom kept his face carefully blank. Harry grinned at him. "That was really good Tom. You got it quicker than anyone I've seen." It was true. Even Hermione had taken the better part of an hour to do what Tom had done in twenty minutes. It both frightened and pleased Harry that his ward was so capable. Tom returned the grin with a small smile of his own and set to work transfiguring the vase back.

Harry was pleased with him. The thought made Tom feel strangely warm and satisfied. Despite his intelligence, no one had really ever praised him for anything before. It was nice having an adult smile and tell him he had done well. Tom turned the vase back into a cup and felt Harry ruffle his hair playfully. He blushed and kept his eyes on the floor while repairing his hairstyle with one hand. "Let's have some lunch," Harry suggested cheerfully. Nodding, he followed Harry into the kitchen. Dilly had made some soup and sandwiches. Tom took one with turkey and mayonnaise and bit into it hungrily. The magic lessons and the abundance of food with Harry had increased his appetite over the past few weeks. He was now eating close to what he would guess would be the normal amount for someone his age and size. He no longer looked skeletal and unhealthy and he had gotten to stop taking the nutrient potions two days ago. He looked across the table at Harry just as his guardian looked over at him. Harry laughed. "Tom you've got a bit of mayonnaise," Harry gestured towards his cheek. Wiping it furiously, Tom scowled down at his sandwich. Suddenly, something cold touched his other cheek. Harry grinned at him. "You look cute like that."

Harry held back a laugh as Tom frowned at him. The new spot of mayonnaise on his cheek contrasting with the faint blush Tom was sporting. When he called Tom cute, the seven year old shot him a look that clearly doubted his sanity. Mumbling under his breath about weird guardians, the child wiped off the offending smudge with a napkin. The blue eyes caught sight of something behind Harry and widened in disbelief. Before Harry could turn around, a cold wet substance was poured liberally over his head. Dripping with mayonnaise, Harry turned to see Dilly giggling madly. "Dilly wanted to join yous. Masters looked like they were having such fun!" The little elf scampered back into the kitchen. Harry momentarily wondered why it was always him that ended up with the odd house elves when his jaw dropped in shock. Turning wildly to look across the table, he saw as well as heard Tom roaring with laughter. He stared in amazement. _Tom has quite a nice laugh. _His lips twitched and he found himself joining in.

Tom was still giggling softly as Harry left to get cleaned up. The look on his face when Dilly had dumped the mayonnaise had been priceless. He gave the elf a small smile when it came to get his plate. "Thanks Dilly. That was brilliant." The elf gave him a wink and popped back into the kitchen with his plate. He was getting comfortable with Harry and Dilly, no one yelled at him or hurt him. If anything Harry was infinitely patient with him. Sometimes it seemed like Harry would look at him funny, like last week when he had found him talking to a garden snake, but the look would be gone so fast Tom wasn't really sure he'd seen anything. He was pulled from his thoughts as Harry walked back into the kitchen. "Want to go flying for a bit?"

Tom loved watching Harry fly. The older man was astoundingly graceful in the air. Tom hovered on his broom, staring in amazement as Harry perfectly executed a particularly risky maneuver. Harry laughed happily and waved at him, flying over. "I'll get a quidditch set soon so we can play." Tom nodded. He didn't think the flying sport would really be his thing, but he enjoyed spending time with Harry. "Christmas is coming up," Harry continued, "anything special you want?" No one had ever asked Tom that and no one had ever given him anything for Christmas before. He shrugged, trying to act casual. Harry gave him a bright smile. "I'll just surprise you then."

A/N: Sorry I know I haven't updated in a while. I had a bit of writer's block. Next chapter, Harry and Tom have their first Christmas together! :)


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